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As the story went deeper and deeper, I increasingly felt the limits of my writing ability.
At first, I wanted to write a farming novel. Later, I realized the repetitive plotlines were becoming more and more numerous, so I began writing all kinds of instances.
The fights lacked tension, and the instances did not have enough depth. Those were all obvious shortcomings.
A story needed momentum to be exciting—either pressure from the outside world or the protagonist's own drive. This book's driving force was weak; its peaks were not high and its valleys were not low, so the story came across as bland.
Later on, the cheat became too overpowered. There was no need for all kinds of adventures to advance steadily at all. I could not make the daily life scenes varied, and the road had reached a dead end.
The characters were not fleshed out enough, the plot was not engaging, and there were far too many flaws.
My updates had originally been fairly diligent. Back then, I would still make time to read other authors' books to enrich myself. Later, I only focused on maintaining ten-thousand-character updates, leaving less and less time to read, until there was almost none at all.
By October, the breath I had been holding finally gave out. I could only maintain four thousand characters per update. By my old calculations, I did not know how many words I would have owed.
How should the new realms be cultivated? What form should the fighting methods take? My lacking imagination began to fail me.
Some readers said the book began going downhill from the Nascent Soul realm onward. Actually, I think the signs had already appeared during the late golden core